


Beneath The Mask: What We Leave Unsaid

by EstrangedFamiliar



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Past Abuse, Symbolism, To Be Continued, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved, more to come - Freeform, pegoryu, this is not the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22664452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstrangedFamiliar/pseuds/EstrangedFamiliar
Summary: Akira has been reacting weirdly whenever Ryuji touches him, whether it be a hand on his cheek or kisses on his palms. From the glossy look in his eyes, to his defensive body language, Ryuji is beginning to worry. A nice Sunday evening, time spent by lounging around with his boyfriend, slowly turns into a heart-to-heart. What could be going on inside his boyfriend's head?(The one where Akira is touch-starved, and Ryuji notices)
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 290





	Beneath The Mask: What We Leave Unsaid

Ryuji cuddles closer to Akira, firmly wrapping his arms around his leader’s back. Akira cuddles closer, tucking his head carefully under Ryuji’s head. It’s calm, peaceful, and actually quiet for once. Sojiro’s out for the day, and Ryuji has more than enough time to cuddle with his boyfriend. 

Their schedule has been kind’ve tightly-knit lately. When they’re in between Palaces, they’re fulfilling requests in Mementos. When they weren’t doing _that..._ well, Akira was busy doing who knows what. It’s always been a mystery. So Ryuji was more than happy to spend the evening falling in and out of sleep with his busy leader. 

A hum from his boyfriend rumbles warmly against his throat, causing a smile to grow across his face. He rubs Akira’s back, leaving one hand on the swell of his back, the other moving upwards to the base of his neck, chilled fingers tingling against the radiating warmth. 

“Comfy?” He murmurs, dopey smile growing wider. A sleepy Akira lifts his head, eyes blinking languidly. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even nod, instead sending Ryuji a sweet, love struck smile. His heart near damn melted at the sight. It hit Ryuji how unguarded it was, so full of vulnerability and trust. It made him want to cry and to kiss his boyfriend senseless. 

Instead, he just watches as Akira curls back into Ryuji’s arms, lazily kissing his neck before settling back down. Ryuji waits a moment, watching Akira slip into his previous state of relaxation, before slowly brushing his fingers along the base of his hair, playing around with the curly strands. He twists some strands between his thumb and forefinger, relishing in the softness. He digs his fingers a little deeper, testing out the waters as he scratches the nape of Akira’s neck. 

Akira suddenly hums, leaning his head into Ryuji’s hand sleepily. Ryuji watches him squirm under him a little, causing an idea to run into Ryuji’s head. Quietly, he starts to massage Akira’s scalp, soft and sneaky. He lingers around the base of the neck, which seems to be a particular sweet spot, before working his way up. Akira is stirring, not fully awake yet. Feeling bold, Ryuji grasps at a few strands near the top of Akira’s head, and tugs on them languidly, combing his way through the ends. He doesn’t pull hard enough to move Akira’s head, but just enough to tease the idea. In response, his boyfriend hums, louder this time, and nuzzles his head deeper into Ryuji’s neck.

Ryuji can’t hide his amusement, thoroughly entertained by this sudden new discovery. He observes the head buried into his chest, smile wide and sweet, as he repeats the small tugging motion again. When Akira makes a noise at him, Ryuji’s grin turns sharp. 

“What?” He teases quietly. “Does that feel good?” Listlessly lifting his head, Akira blinks at him, smoky eyes whispering to him. That’s all Ryuji needed. With silent encouragement, Ryuji runs his fingers through Akira’s hair. His boyfriend curls back into his chest, clutching at Ryuji’s shirt. Once again, Akira hums in contentment, starting to shiver as Ryuji gently rakes a nail down Akira’s skull. 

Ryuji got that feeling in his chest again, tight and powerful, which gave him the confidence he needed to continue on with his idea. Both of his hands were preoccupied with this intriguing prospect. Every chance he got to fluster and tease his usually unbreakable demeanour, he would take it. Well, as long as he never pushed Akira too far. He knew (somewhat) where that line was.

The moment had supposedly passed, Akira not expecting much else to go down. But just as he felt himself drifting off into bliss, fingers dragged back into his hair. The spots that were touched tingled, being a foreign sensation unlike any other. Not unkind, not ghostly, but real and full of love. It was what he had craved but the desire had been shoved to the depths of his unconscious up until now. There were more important things he had to focus on. Unsurprisingly, most of that was official Phantom Thief business. 

For a moment, it turned into gentle petting, almost as if he were a house pet. But as fast as it came, it was gone, replaced when Ryuji switched back to scraping his nails carefully along Akira’s scalp, teasing the strands located at the base of his neck. It caused involuntary reactions that he wasn’t quite used to. Shivers, quietly content hums, and a need to burrow away with Ryuji forever. 

Without warning, Ryuji gathered as much of Akira’s hair as he could, and pulled it back, albeit gently. The reaction was almost instantaneous, Akira’s lips parting in a silent gasp, eyes now smouldering dangerously hot. Eyes locked together at that moment, the electrifying tension crackling between them. Ryuji’s lips were pushed flat, cheeks warming at the damn-near lewd expression on his boyfriend's face. As a small test, he tried a small tug again. The reaction increased tenfold, breath rushing out quickly from Akira’s lips. 

“ _Ryuji…”_ The air was entirely sucked out of the room, leaving no room for either of them to breathe. Ryuji finds his eyes blown, mind blanking completely. What does he do? He couldn’t read the atmosphere anymore, and he was at a loss for words. Does he keep going? Or does he pull back to try to diffuse the stifling tension? The way Akira was looking at him should be illegal. Ryuji’s heart couldn’t take it. To avoid becoming a walking strawberry, he purses his lips into a frown as best he could. His cheeks tingled like there was something sour stuffed in them. Suddenly a little nervous from the intimacy, Ryuji forced out a strained laugh **.**

“Aki…” He murmured, grasping Akira’s chin to look into his eyes. He received a slow blink in return. Ryuji sweeps his tongue over his own dry, lonely lips. “You’re lookin’ real cute right now, y’know that?” Akira really _was_ like a cat, wasn’t he? Not including purring, he was pushing his head against Ryuji’s hand, eyes lidded and blinking slowly, pressed irresistibly close in a way that he knew was reserved for him. 

Akira’s dazed expression turned amused as he stared up at Ryuji. He hummed in something similar to agreement, peppering kisses along Ryuji’s jawline. 

“Only for you, Ryu…” To emphasize his point, Akira clutched onto Ryuji’s shirt, looking as vulnerable as one could get. At least in Akira’s instance, anyway. The soft and pliant press of his lips turned Ryuji into a mere puddle as he tried-and failed-to keep his composure.

His foggy mind belatedly realized that, somehow, Akira was turning the tables on him _as usual,_ even while in his state of quietude. The prospect greatly irked Ryuji—he had intended for this day to be dedicated to Akira and his mental health, not the other way around in any way, shape, or form—but he knew how to get his plan back on track. 

With a small ‘hup!’ Ryuji picked himself up from the worn-out mattress, gently prying Akira’s fingers from his shirt. Straddling his hips, Ryuji took a moment to soak in the view. Wide, charcoal eyes stared up at him, surprise evident on his face. Satisfaction came with catching Akira off guard, rippling up his spine pleasantly. The glossy sheen of sleep intermingled with anticipation and intrigue was too hard to ignore. The overwhelming sense that the world could revolve around each other, even just for a little while, was exciting and startlingly new. Ryuji intended to use it to the fullest. 

With a cheeky smile, Ryuji cups Akira’s cheeks in his palms, squishing them together impulsively. Stretching them out, and taking immense pleasure in the mirth in Akira’s now warped eyes. Ryuji reluctantly let go, switching his attention to caressing Akira’s soft, bare neck. The skin wasn’t too warm, probably a result of the open window right beside them. 

Akira let out a deep sigh, the muscles in his shoulders visibly relaxing from a settled tension that always lingered. The reaction Akira had to his touch didn’t escape Ryuji’s notice, some puzzle pieces falling together in his mind. It didn’t all line up yet, but he was catching on. With a small smile tugging on his lips, Ryuji rubs his thumbs up and down Akira’s neck, soothing the body and mind of the days troubles **.**

“I’m going to take care of you. Okay?” Ryuji’s voice carried in a whisper, eyes capturing the other’s with an intense and genuine look. Ryuji could feel his leader tremble underneath him, eyes adorning a glassy sheen. _Click._ Another puzzle piece.

Letting a pregnant pause grow between them, Ryuji lowers his hands to Akira’s shoulders, fingers tumbling around the fabric. He can feel Akira watching, probably wondering what the hell he’s doing, dark eyes boring into Ryuji like a heated laser. His hands went lower and lower, stopping at Akira’s long and nimble hands. He picked up his left hand, thumbs resting on Akira’s palm while his other fingers curled around the back **.** Ryuji wonders what to do next, staring at his boyfriend’s palm, just the slightest hint of callousness on the pads below his fingers. Small hints of the activities they all really get down to outside of school.

With his mind now fixated on Akira’s hand, Ryuji attempts to massage his palm. He pushes into Akira’s hand forcefully, working the callouses that have _got_ to be more than a little sore after a long, Mementos-filled day. 

Turns out he was right **.** As he starts massaging Akira’s hand, his breath comes out in a pained hiss. The action gives Ryuji pause, looking down in concern. He decides against the impromptu massage, instead bringing Akira’s hand to his face, planting kisses on each finger, face burning. Akira’s briefly twisted up expression turns back into that same glassy look as before. Ryuji is delighted to see it, boosting his confidence up enough to get bolder. Excitement bubbling in his chest, Ryuji kisses at Akira’s lower palm, trailing down a little lower to kiss his wrist. As he peppered a third kiss on his arm, he met Akira’s eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered and Akira flushed as he did so, shifting under him **.** Now, Ryuji figures that anyone in this position would go red in embarrassment, but there was still an unfinished puzzle he was determined to see to the end. “You’re amazin’, Akira.” Ryuji closes Akira’s hands into fists, kissing the knuckles. But out of nowhere, Akira pulls his hand away, leaving Ryuji’s hands empty. Right below him, he watches his boyfriend curl in on himself, putting up an invisible barrier between the two. 

Panic starts to set in, and Ryuji wonders what he did wrong. Was it too much? Did the kissing upset Akira? Oh god, he wasn’t mad, was he? He’s left a bit hurt, but mostly worried about what he could’ve done to upset his almost-unbreakable boyfriend.

(Keyword: almost)

Akira doesn’t say anything, not out of the ordinary, but looks troubled, most definitely out of the ordinary. Ryuji is lucky enough to be as close to Akira as he is right now. Because if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to tell anything is wrong inside that head of Akira’s. Ryuji still feels guilty for the amount of pressure he allowed to fall onto Akira’s shoulders as the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Akira would always insist that he could handle these things on his own, but those types of conversations always ended up with Ryuji getting pissed **.**

But was it really his fault for getting angry? He can’t help that his boyfriend is a selfishly selfless martyr. He always keeps shit to himself until it was tearing him at the seams. And you know what? Even then, Ryuji bets on his life that after Akira emotionally tore himself to bits, he would _still_ try to insist that he’s fine, everything’s fine. 

So, yes. Ryuji had a right to be angry when it came to Akira bottling things up. But not now. Not when, in Akira fashion, he looked like he was about to cry, by just the look in his eyes. 

“I think you should go home.” 

In a flash, that anger was back again. But no—Ryuji wouldn’t be like his dad. He wouldn’t blow up. He _swore_ to himself that he wouldn’t.

“Akira, what’s—” But Akira cut him off, the bastard, and pushed him off. 

“Didn’t you say your mom would be coming home earlier than usual tonight?” 

Ryuji paused with a frown. “Well, yeah, but she—”

“Then you should spend the evening with her, right? I’ll even send you back with some curry Sojiro had me make. I promise it’s good. I’ve been practising!” There it was. Akira spinning the table on him to make him forget what had just happened. He didn’t even give Ryuji time, just started walking down the stairs to the café.

It felt like he was being swept away into Akira’s pace, and he couldn’t let that happen this time. 

Ryuji ran down the stairs, not giving a damn at the ruckus he was making. By the time he got to Akira, the bastard already had the second day curry in a to-go container. 

“I packed as much as I could. Sojiro buys these in bulk, but they’re not that big—” No. “—and I’ve been trying to convince him to go bigger, but he just complains about how expensive they are—” _No._ “—but anyway, he’s stopped glaring at me all the time. I think he’s still suspicious of me, but he’s getting kinder!” _Stop it._ “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys. You really are the best, you know? All of you. Oh, by the way Ryuji, did you want more curry? Because I could make more for you right now—”

_“Akira!”_

Akira jumped slightly, turning around with the to-go curry still in his hand. His eyes were dark and wide without his glasses on. 

Ryuji was almost shaking from the amount of emotion coursing through him. Fists clenched, he stomped right up to Akira, who backed away in response, until he was up against the kitchen counter. Ryuji pinned him with a hard look, but it quickly softened as he reached up and brushed away the tears he was pretty sure Akira was unaware he was shedding. He looked shocked at the touch, reaching up and touching his own cheek. Dropping it, Akira looks back up at him, sniffling. 

“What’s goin’ on, Akira?” Ryuji made sure to keep their gazes locked, but his expression kind. 

It looked for a moment like Akira was going to deny him an answer, but that worry washed away as Akira slowly leaned forward, dropping his head on Ryuji’s shoulder. Neither of them said a word, quiet gasps filling in the dead space. Ryuji stayed patient, guessing that this has been building up for a while now. By Akira’s shaking shoulders, and choked breaths that were quickening fast. Ryuji worried that he wouldn’t be able to calm the rising panic, but with the existing puzzles pieces in place to give him answers, he calmly wrapped his arms around Akira’s, squeezing him close.

A moment passed, when Ryuji felt the slightest pull at his clothes. Which he knew right away was Akira clinging to him. It felt a bit like he was comforting a kid, the way Akira clung to him. Ryuji didn’t hate it, not by any means, but it broke his heart. Made him wonder why. Why was Akira so upset? Why had Akira not said anything earlier if he wasn’t okay with the physical affection? But what bothered Ryuji the most…

How long has Akira not been okay?

Akira tries to pull away, still clearly shaking. He could ask these questions later, but right at that moment, Akira needed physical comfort. With slight exasperation, Ryuji lifts Akira’s arms up and places them down and around his own shoulders. He meets no resistance, thankfully, and he rubs a soothing hand up and down his back. 

“I dunno what you’ve gone through, Akira. But I want to know you. Everything that you like, what bothers you. You’ve listened to me ramble on and on about my dysfunctional childhood—”

“Ryuji—“ 

“Shh, I’m not done talking,” Ryuji jostles Akira a little, smiling when he hears a huff of laughter. “Anyway, what I’m _tryin’_ to say is, just like you’re thankful for _us_ , and you wanna protect _us_ , we wanna do the same for you. We all care about you a lot... _I_ care about you a lot, Akira. I love you.” The words hung heavily in the air. An intake of breath, not his own, makes him antsy. But he steels his resolve, gripping tighter. “I love you, so I wanna protect you. But I can’t do that when you shut me out, yeah?” Ryuji waited for confirmation, just a small nod and a sniffle, but it was enough. “I trust you, Akira. And I hope you trust me. I don’t got anyone else to tell secrets to, anyway.” 

“You have your mom.” Akira’s voice was soft, fragile. Ryuji rubbed his back some more. 

“Ah, I mean, I guess so. My ma’s not a gossip, anyway. And I don’t always tell her everything I’m goin’ through. If you want, I can promise not to say a word about it to her.” Ryuji pulled back a bit, wanting to look into Akira’s eyes. Akira met him in the middle, head still resting on Ryuji’s shoulder. They stared silently at each other, before Akira looked down, shaking his head a little, nuzzling into his shoulder. 

“No,” he murmured, “I don’t want to force you to do anything like, hide things from your mom. She’s important to you. I could never ask you to do that.” Akira’s voice was lowered so quiet, Ryuji wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for Akira talking directly into his ear. Ryuji rested his head on top of Akira’s, closing his eyes.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’m not givin’ up. You better know that.” Ryuji kisses the top of Akira’s head, face feeling just a tad warm. Akira lifted himself off of Ryuji’s shoulder, face just as warm as Ryuji feels.

“Are you going home?” The question wasn’t quite what he had been expecting, but he didn’t mind. Ryuji smiles, reaching up to brush away Akira’s bangs.

“I would _like_ to stay. But if you want me to go, I will. But you gotta be honest. Sound fair?” Akira nodded, looking like he was actually going to be honest for once. His eyes were averted, a sign of uncertainty, and his lips thinned. Ryuji lifted his gaze with his chin. “So? What’s the verdict, leader?” His smile was small, and genuine, so open that Akira felt _safe_.

“... I want you to stay.”

Ryuji’s smile widened, excitement bubbling to the surface. He put aside the curry Akira had been insistently packing earlier, took off Akira’s dishevelled apron, then led him back upstairs, making sure to turn off the lights of the café. 

As they make it back to Akira’s bed, now cold, it occurs to Ryuji that there’s a distinct lack of an annoying cat hanging around and telling the two of them that their PDA is gross. Glancing to Akira, who’s busy closing the windows, he sits down. 

“Hey, where’s that annoying cat anyway?” He leans back on his hands, eyebrow raised curiously.

“Morgana?” Akira asked. “He’s with Futaba right now. While you were busy arguing with Ann about sweet-eating habits, he told me he wasn’t going to hang around to watch us be mushy. Futaba overheard and snatched him from my bag.” He shrugged, sitting down beside Ryuji. He looked down for a moment, but then grabbed Ryuji’s hand. “I care about Morgana a lot, but it’s admittedly difficult to listen to him make jabs at you all the time.” Meeting Ryuji’s eyes, he pressed his lips to Ryuji’s knuckles, the tiniest smile on his face. Watching closely, Ryuji pursed his lips, cheeks tingling.

“You sap,” He made no move to pull his hand away, just squeezing their fingers together. “You’re not the one bein’ insulted by him anyway.” 

“Mm…” Akira’s eyes fell to his knuckles before turning back up, sharper than before. “It’s because I love you, Ryuji. ‘I wanna protect you.’”

While Ryuji did _not_ appreciate having his words thrown back at him, he couldn’t help the giddiness that came with hearing the ‘I love you’ from Akira. He didn’t even try to stifle the feeling, using his free hand to pull Akira into a hug.

“I love you so damn much, Aki. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He hears a sniffle, making him hold Akira tighter. He hears Akira choke out a quiet ‘me too’ and the moment grows longer. They don’t talk for what feels like forever, but they get all the satisfaction they need by holding each other close. The busy people of Yongen-Jaya outside fill in the space, serving in the peaceful ambience that fits just right.

Akira is the first to pull away, not meeting Ryuji’s eyes and keeping him at arms length.

“I’ll tell you about the things that have been bothering me,” he started, “but I don’t know how to say it. I’ve been dealing with it by myself for so long that it feels like I’ve rationalized it. It feels weird to talk about it out loud.” As Akira went on, he got increasingly more nervous. Almost as if he was talking himself into panic. Watching it unfold in front of him was a new experience, but Ryuji took it all in stride.

“And that’s okay, Akira. It’s okay that you dunno what to say. It’s _okay_ to struggle sometimes, you’re allowed to not be perfect. Because even if you fall, I’ll be there to pick you back up. Ann will, Yusuke will, Makoto will, Futaba definitely will. Hell, even I know _Morgana_ will. We’re all family. It’s what _true_ family does.” Akira’s panicked look was replaced with surprise, and even Ryuji was surprised by his own words. Sure, he had said a while ago that, with Akira, he felt free. He still stood by those words. But he was a bit taken aback by how mature he had sounded. The realization threw him for a bit of a loop. But mostly, he felt accomplished. He had defied the odds forced on him by rotten adults, become someone who _mattered_ in the world, and had grown to be someone who others could rely on. He felt like he had finally _made it._

Akira had gone through a flurry of emotions in the past few minutes, but he was now stuck on teary gratitude. How did he get so lucky? At the start, he had nothing. He _was_ nothing. Just a wad of chewed up gum on the bottom of society’s shoe. But here he was now, overwhelmed by a group of individuals who care about him enough to tolerate when he was an incoherent mess. A boyfriend who knew him, saw what he was, but loved him anyway. Had been with him from the beginning. The idea that this was all permanent, a real, tangible part of the universe, took his breath away.

This time, Akira _knew_ he was crying, and as he fell to Ryuji to cry for what must’ve been the one hundredth time that day, he only managed to whisper a litany of ‘I love you’s’ to Ryuji. He felt a reassuring hand resting on his back, rubbing soothingly as he continued to cry. He wanted to stop, really he did, but couldn’t summon enough willpower to succeed anymore. Ryuji was patient with him, never telling him to stop or to man up.

But a tiny voice whispered in his mind. _You’re not enough. Taking advantage of Ryuji’s goodwill like this? All because you have emotional baggage? Disgusting. Selfish. You don’t deserve it._

“Hey,” A voice whispered. “Get outta your head.” It was Ryuji. Right, he was at Leblanc. Not anywhere else.

“Sorry…” He lifted his head, feeling a little guilty.

“Nah, don’t say sorry. Just stay with me here, in the present.” Ryuji stood up, watching Akira closely as the other boy spaced out again, looking less sad now. Seeing it made Ryuji feel safe to leave his side, walking across the room to the janky little TV, turning it on and popping in a movie. Switching off the attic lights, Ryuji rejoined Akira on the bed, sitting both of them to sit against the wall. The movie went on, the two of them remaining for a long while, before Akira finally spoke. 

“My childhood was quiet. Loud. Nothing.” He mumbled. “It was like emotions didn’t exist. One day, when I was a kid, I fell at school pretty bad. Enough to draw blood, at least. I was scared, so the school called my parents to come pick me up,” In the light cast by the TV, Ryuji could see the muscles working themselves in Akira’s jaw. “They never came.” Anger was beginning to bubble up, but he held back, not masking the frown that worked its way onto his face. Adjusting his position carefully with Akira between his legs, he tilted his head more, to show he was listening. There was silence, for a good while, where Ryuji contemplated saying something. Akira picked it back up. “I learned from my parents that emotions complicated things. Crying was annoying. Laughter was too loud. Never make a mistake.” Akira was quiet again, before whispering, “I made mistakes.” Ryuji felt the tension rising in Akira’s back, eyebrows furrowed. Ryuji got the sense that there were gaps left in the story, stuff Akira wasn’t admitting.

“Akira, did they ever hit you?” He had a feeling. Ryuji had seen the signs, the tics and triggers that one often adopted as a result, but he didn’t want to believe it was true. Not Akira too.

“I screwed up, Ryuji, I stepped out of line, and they never trusted me again. That’s just how it is. Once they distrust you, it’s over. You’re on your own.” Akira’s voice was hollow, eyes so sure, so certain, that he was right. Ryuji found he couldn’t dispute the belief, but hearing it from his boyfriend didn’t fail to send a shiver down his spine.

“They hit you,” He concluded. “How many times?” Akira said nothing, just shifted a little and inclined his head toward the TV. Oh, _hell_ no. _“Akira.”_ His boyfriend was tense, not at _all_ what Ryuji wanted. He had _promised_ he wasn’t going to push him out like this. 

“It doesn’t matter, Ryuji, please—”

 _“How many?”_ Ryuji’s voice cracked under pressure, the anguish bubbling in his throat threatening to spill out. They _hurt_ him. Akira, who does so much to please everyone but himself, has been physically—and emotionally—abused by his parents, and he’s been quietly dealing with this long-term trauma without anyone’s else. Ryuji, he at least had his mom. They were each other’s rocks. But Akira had no one to turn to, all this time. Fuck.

Akira turned to face him now, eyebrows raised in concern. His arms hovered in front of Ryuji, the urge to hug him while he’s upset overwhelming. However, Ryuji angrily brushes it off to rub away the tears raining down his cheeks. 

“I just wanna know ‘Kira, ‘cos if you’ve been dealin’ with so much shit _plus_ this stupid fuckin’ lawsuit, I dunno how you can handle all of it.” His breath skipped and stuttered, stumbling over his upset and the need to breathe. “I know you might not wanna say it out loud ‘cos it might upset you, but—dammit…” He choked up more, bringing up his hands to cover his eyes. “It hurts to know what you’ve gone through, Akira.” Ryuji sobbed into his hands, the breathy spasms in his chest bursting out in waves. He felt cool hands rest on his neck, thumbs gently rubbing up and down. Hesitantly, Ryuji lowered his hands from his face, eyes instantly meeting Akira’s, who also had sad, glossy eyes. He sighed. 

“Listen, Ryuji... I can’t ever promise that talking about it won’t hurt. I also specifically didn’t want to go into details to you, because I thought it might upset you. I didn’t want to put you into a bad mental state, after the nice day we had. Besides…” He took hold of Ryuji’s hands, and squeezed them lovingly. “All of us have gone through our own terrible things. We shouldn’t compare our trauma to each other’s, because it all hurts,” He leans in close, keeping their eyes locked. “And we can all eventually heal.” Ryuji felt like he couldn’t breathe, but for a better reason this time. Akira’s words hit home, hard. Just as he tried to formulate a response, Akira continued. “Now, that is to say, I’m not a perfect human being; I’m no stranger to unhealthy coping mechanisms. But I need to keep moving forward, even if I don’t think I can all the time. I’ll keep going, and drag you all with me, right to the finish line.” Akira tried for a smile, filling Ryuji with determination, and love.

Ryuji scrubbed at his near-dry eyes, taking a deep breath. If Akira could be this strong, this resilient, he needed to be strong too. For the group. For himself.

“You’re right, Akira,” He huffs a deep sigh. “Gotta be strong,” He then pulls his hands away from Akira’s, cupping Akira’s face and pulling him close. “My boyfriend is so _strong_ ‘n _cute._ But I ain’t givin’ up on helpin’ you like today. You ain’t gettin’ out of it. Got it?” Akira nodded in confirmation, small but honest, which was enough to satisfy Ryuji. He nodded back, happy with the response, and leaned in to peck Akira’s cheek. But, at the last second, Akira turned his head so that his lips met with Ryuji’s, sly bastard. But who was Ryuji kidding, this is the sly bastard he fell in love with. Ryuji hummed into the kiss, tilting his head just so to make the kiss deeper.

Akira hummed back, tilting his head the other way. The air grew heated as soon as Ryuji felt Akira’s hands rest on his lower, pulling him closer. They broke apart just enough to catch their breath, where Ryuji finds the time to place his hands on Akira’s shoulders. Gently pushing him back, he led Akira to lie underneath him, arms landing to bracket on either side of Akira’s head. They stared at each other, both still panting lightly, chests both tight.

Ryuji leans down, lips hovering just a few centimetres above Akira’s, before meeting them up once again. Almost like Akira was his lifeline. He feels Akira’s hands travel from his back, moving up and curling up to rest just below his shoulders. They kissed slowly, savouring every touch, each press. Seconds quickly turn into minutes, taking every moment as slowly as they could.

Eventually, they slow to a stop. Ryuji lowers himself to rest on top of Akira. He figures he can take it. He’s not sure when he falls asleep, but that night he dreams about a few things. Akira wearing a puzzle piece costume, Shadow Kamoshida shoving him off a cliff, Looking into a mirror and seeing his dad, but the last one he wakes up to is him and Akira getting married. And if he wakes up feeling happy and anxious for the future and what it will bring, he doesn’t tell a soul. Maybe Akira.

Definitely Akira.

**Author's Note:**

> better late than never I always say lmao this is my first try at Akiryu/Pegoryu! I've been so obsessed with this ship since I started playing the game and I can't get over it. Send help. 
> 
> also, I intend to write a continuation of this fic, but I also have No Idea how long it'll take me to write out something I actually like. So, stay tuned for more to come! Hope y'all liked it.


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